Need

 

It was 100 degrees yesterday afternoon.  The cumulous clouds built mountain ranges creating canyons of white shadowed by the grey potential of thunder storms.  Our creek was down to a trickle.  I was pulling grass from a flower bed, replanting it in bare spots of the lawn.  A black eyed Susan came along with one clump and I separated it out, making a place with the trowel in another bed.  They spread you know.  The trowel slipped in easily, but when I lifted it, dust rose above the mulch.

I’d decided not to water because of predicted thunder storms, to come from the grand canyons sliding by above.  But by the time I saw the puff of dust, it was two or three in the afternoon and the blue between the clouds seemed on the ascendency.  I looked again at the plants and saw a droop to them.  The morning glory leaves were curled down on themselves, the elephant ears were bowing to the ruling sun.  In spite of the experts’ opinion it was time to water. 

It made me wonder how often we don’t really pay attention to the need that surrounds us.  We may even read about some expert’s opinion, riddled with statistics without ever noticing any specific puff of dust rising from the parching need calling to us to do some small thing that might ameliorate a bit of the drought weighing down our world. 

And how often do we ignore our own need, letting our fatigue and loneliness, our frustration and sense of entrapment dry out our lives until there isn’t a bloom to be seen.  We have all sorts of good excuses, ignoring the simple truth that if we don’t do something about our own back yard there is no one who will.

There may come the desired showers, but in the midst of such need, are we not doing damage rather than participating in a blessing, could we not be instruments of grace and reasons for thanksgiving?

It took a good two hours to give everything a good soaking.  But I was happier for it.  I’m sure if plants might express relief, they would have.  When I woke this morning the ground was soaked.  The rain had come.  Did I waste my time?  How is it ever a waste to let compassion have its way?